


Colour

by nostalgicCatmeow



Category: No Fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-14
Updated: 2015-01-14
Packaged: 2018-03-07 14:22:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3175914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nostalgicCatmeow/pseuds/nostalgicCatmeow





	Colour

Once you lived in a world where colour meant everything  
The grass beneath your feet would spring back unharmed  
(Green, fresh and beautiful, always there to show you there was life)  
The sun beat down on you on hot days as she smiled at you with just as much warmth  
(Yellow, or was it gold? Or a burning orange? You can never remember)  
You would say something and she would laugh, her eyes sparkling, and her friendly grin reminding you that you were safe  
(Blue, soft and beautiful and living, as prominent in the sky as it was every time you met her gaze)  
She would point shapes out in the clouds and laugh, you would laugh too, although it wasn’t the clouds you were looking at.  
(White, gentle and safe, soaking in the light of the sky and hanging peacefully there, secure and constant)  
She would notice, as she always did, and say something and smirk. You would feel the heat rush to your cheeks and be comfortable in knowing what colour it was as if it was as simple as breathing.  
(Red, bright and bashful, the very same colour pumping through your veins flooding to the surface easily.)  
In winter she would wrap her scarf around your neck and smile, but you never felt cold with her.  
(Purple, soft, warm, and delicate. You would have compared it to her if it wouldn’t have made her laugh, she was anything but delicate. She made you feel like you were as delicate and breakable as fine china, but at the same time you never felt truly whole without her.)  
She would, she would, she would  
But she couldn’t  
Not anymore  
And the colours that used to radiate from her were gone  
(Grey. Cold. Harsh. Empty. Alone. She was gone, and so were the colours that had meant so much, what were they worth without her?)  
She was gone  
And you were too.


End file.
